


A Yharnam Beast in Zone 1

by The_Silver_Souled_Hunter



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), OFF (Game)
Genre: Blood, Character Death, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 14:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19907173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Silver_Souled_Hunter/pseuds/The_Silver_Souled_Hunter
Summary: Father Gascoigne is whisked away to a strange land populated by rather neurotic folks.  Unfortunately, the only inhabitant who could possibly help him seems more intent on slicing his face open.





	A Yharnam Beast in Zone 1

Father Gascoigne awoke gasping for air. His head pounded and his very bones ached. He laid on the cold ground, staring up at a dull pink sky. This isn’t right, he thought. It was the middle of the day…at least that’s what it seemed. It should be late into the evening last he checked. The hunter rummaged around in his coat, sighing upon finding that his weapons were still there.

Pushing himself to his feet, he tapped his boot against the ground. It was stable, but gave a metallic ring. Looking to the side, Gascoigne found an ocean stretching out from the metal shore. Yet it was white and thick, churning in an unnatural manner. Grimacing, he strode well away from the supposed water. He was never too good at swimming, and the stuff in there seemed likely to drag him to the murky depths.

It wasn’t long before he finally encountered one of the land’s inhabitants. He looked relatively normal, despite the short stature and worryingly pale skin. He wore a simple white shirt, a black necktie and slacks, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. The little man’s eyes widened as Gascoigne approached, yet he remained perfectly still.

“Hhhhh…who…are you?” the man asked with a deep gasp. Gascoigne cocked an eyebrow, yet chose not to comment. The air appeared to be thicker here, after all.  
“I am Father Gascoigne, former hunter of the Church. Tell me, where might Yharnam be?” Gascoigne inquired. He gave a warm smile, taking care not to bare his rather sharp teeth. The man tugged at his collar and gulped.

“Eh…Yharnam? Sorry, I’ve never heard of it. You’re in Pentel of Zone 1…uh, where we raise cows to extract metal from. But the barn is full of specters again, and…the Queen’s inspector should be here soon. Sometimes he exterminates them, sometimes…er…” the man trailed off, breathing heavily as wisps of smoke drifted from his mouth. Gascoigne stepped back and raised a hand.

“Now, now, there’s no need to get worked up! I’ll gladly handle those specters for you. Can’t be any tougher than beasts.” He said. The man took another deep, shuddering breath and glanced from side to side.

“Um…it would really help, but Master Dedan wouldn’t like it. He might get mad and…probably try to kill you.” He said in a hushed voice. Gascoigne patted his head and chuckled.

“I’m sure this Dedan and I can speak things over rationally. If not, I’ve dealt with enough madmen to put up a fight.” He said. Strolling into the nearby barn, he paused to think over what he’d been told. Zone 1…clearly he was nowhere near home. And this Dedan fellow didn’t sound pleasant in the slightest. Still, in the event of a fight he couldn’t have that hard of a time taking him.

Sniffing the air and glancing around, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Cows, hay, lumps of metal…and a fat specter floating about and shrieking with glee. Taking his trusty axe and blunderbuss in hand, Gascoigne grinned maniacally at the spirit before charging in with a roar. The specter was caught off guard, yelping as the axe sliced it in half. Ectoplasm spilled onto the floor, smelling rather bitter in comparison to blood. Yet he reveled in it all the same, laughing as he fired his gun at an approaching spirit.

The Elsen watched from the door with wide eyes as the strange man hacked apart the specters. He was more violent than Dedan had ever been! Already anxiety was building in his nerves, smoke pouring from his mouth and threatening to make him go Burnt. Rushing outside, he held himself and panted, allowing the tension to gradually drain. He could handle this…

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” a voice hissed from above. The Elsen whimpered as he gazed up at the imposing figure of his boss. Dedan towered over him, wearing that ever-present glare. Even from his low position on the ground, he could make out the faint growl rising from the guardian’s throat.

“Slacking on the job again? It’s bad enough you can’t deal with those goddamn phantoms without me having to save your sorry asses!” he snarled. The Elsen backed away and shook his head.

“Master Dedan, I…uh…we have someone clearing out the specters! A Father Gascoigne-ah!” he yelped as Dedan snatched him up, his clawed hand easily fitting around his torso. His pulse quickened at the close sight of the guardian’s impressive teeth, capable of chopping off a limb.

“What part of my face tells you that I give a shit? You think you can grab any random prick off the street to solve all your problems, let yourselves get even softer!” he said. Dropping the Elsen, he groaned and stomped towards the barn. Just his luck that some bastard would step in to do his job. May as well put this Father Gasoline or whatever his name was in his place.

It hadn’t taken long at all for Gascoigne to clear out almost all the specters. The last one struggled under his grasp, shrieking as claws dug into it’s thin flesh. The hunter snickered as he sunk his teeth into the ghost, coating his garb in more ectoplasm. Chewing and ripping the paper-thin flesh, he hummed at the taste of the substance. It didn’t compare to the sweetness of blood, though it did have a wonderfully sugary flavor. He almost didn’t notice approaching footsteps as he ate.

Dedan froze at the sight of a priest eagerly devouring a specter. Here he was expecting some plain little man to be cleaning them out, instead he got a psycho that was slurping up ectoplasm like the best meat in the world. Glancing at the stains coating the floor, he heard the Elsen scream before his head exploded, releasing a pillar of oil-like blood from his neck. Dedan groaned as the Burnt staggered towards him, pained hisses emerging from the creature. He lunged and ripped it open with his claws, swiftly ending his former worker.

Gascoigne watched the creature slaughter the Burnt. He wouldn’t call it a beast, and it certainly wasn’t a man. It had an oddly shaped mouth for one thing, fitted with teeth bigger than his own. Besides that its flesh had an unusual shine, almost like polished steel. Pushing away what remained of the specter, he tilted his head as the creature stomped closer.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, barging into my Zone, making a mess of the place, and acting like a goddamn animal on top of that. But I suggest you piss off before I have to put you down like a dog!” Dedan shouted. He resisted the urge to grind his teeth at the blank stare he received, made worse by the bandages obscuring his eyes. What the hell was the point of those? “I’m only going to tell you this once, fucker. Get the hell out of my Zone, or I’ll skin ya alive.” He said.

Gascoigne smirked, revealing a nasty assortment of human and wolf teeth. Dedan stepped back as he stood, gripping an impressive axe that seemed to be permanently stained red. He was still a good foot taller, but he hadn’t expected to find a goddamn giant! Clearly the Elsen hadn’t gotten some overconfident bastard, but a predator with claws and fangs of his own.

“You…have blood,” Father Gascoigne said. Dedan huffed, but before he could make a snappy retort the priest chuckled and stalked forward. “The sweet blood, how it sickens me! And yet it sings to me…” He chuckled, bursting into laughter that echoed off the walls of the barn. He licked his teeth before lunging and swinging his axe.  
Dedan yelped and jumped back, the axe missing his neck by mere inches. So that’s how it’s going to be, the guardian thought. He charged at the priest and sliced his arm with one of his competences, Hour Hand. He snickered as his opponent faltered, only to shake his head and fire his gun. Dedan screeched at the burning spray of bullets. Damn it, normally that attack was enough to put them to sleep!

Dodging another swing, Dedan took another swipe at Gascoigne, creating a gash in his side that spilled blood onto the floor. Gascoigne snarled and rolled away, firing his gun. The guardian leapt to the side and lunged again, digging his claws into his shoulder. Gascoigne howled in fury and grabbed Dedan’s arm before biting into it, his fangs breaking skin. Dedan screeched and yanked his arm back, but the priest held firmly as he leisurely licked up the dripping blood.

The creature’s blood was more metallic than usual, but Gascoigne couldn’t complain. That familiar sweetness, sting of corruption, it was simply intoxicating! It was only when he was knocked back by a combat boot to the gut that he snapped back to reality. Smacking his own forehead, Gascoigne snarled and extended his axe.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Dedan shouted. Gascoigne’s axe was now over twice its original length. With great force he swung his weapon and struck Dedan’s side, eliciting an earsplitting screech. Blinding pain shot through the guardian’s body as he clutched his side. Gascoigne rushed forward and thrusted his axe, hitting him square in the abdomen.

“You motherfucker…” Dedan said with a gasp. As the priest advanced once more, he lunged and grabbed him by the shoulders, digging his claws into his garb. He swiftly sunk his teeth into Gascoigne’s shoulder, chuckling as warm blood coated his teeth. Gascoigne roared and slammed Dedan against the barn wall. As he did so, a small box was knocked from his coat.

Dedan bit back a whimper as Gascoigne loomed over him, drool mixed with blood dripping from his teeth. Just as he leaned in for another bite, a soft tune sounded from the box. Gascoigne froze as his breathing slowed, licking the saliva from his lips and glancing around. Once more Dedan kicked him away with a hiss. Yet Gascoigne paid him no mind, snatching up the music box and holding it to his chest as if it were a lifeline.

“Oh god, what am I doing? I…I have to get back home, Henryk is probably-!” he was cut off by Dedan slashing at him again. Jumping back he grabbed his axe and shortened it before holding it in a defensive manner. “Who are you? Not a beast, some sort of Great One?” he asked. Dedan scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Great One? Not sure if I’d call myself that,” Dedan muttered. “I am Dedan, guardian of Zone 1. And you’re some pathetic madman who invited yourself in and wrecked the place!” As Gascoigne shrunk back, Dedan couldn’t help but be amused by how suddenly his demeanor had changed. In mere seconds he’d gone from a slavering beast to an arguably decent man. As if to cement it further, Gascoigne lowered his axe and bowed.

“My apologies. I woke up just outside with no idea of how I got here. I’m supposed to be in Yharnam, you see.” He said. Father Gascoigne gulped at Dedan’s claws and teeth, coated in his blood. Based wounds on his wrist, side and stomach, he had clearly dished out about as much as he had taken.

“Yharnam? Let me guess, it’s only the most luxurious place in the world!” Dedan said. Tempted as he was to rip open Gascoigne’s chest, he was not in the mood to suffer more blows from his axe and blunderbuss. His interest was piqued when the hunter bit his lip and tugged his collar.

“Well, the streets are lined with coffins, beasts and angry mobs stalk the night, and the Church barely lifts a finger to help us,” Gascoigne said. “And as the hunters indulge themselves in the blood, they go mad and begin to turn into beasts themselves.” He held out the music box and sighed. “Same thing is happening to me. Some nights this is the only thing that will keep me grounded.”

With a sickening dread Dedan realized that his teeth were drenched in tainted blood. Was he infected now? No, there was no way he could become a beast. Father Gascoigne was clearly a human, while he was some metallic monstrosity. Still, at least there was an explanation why that music box knocked some sense back into him.

He stepped closer as Father Gascoigne opened the box again, letting the melody flow through the room. It was a pleasant little tune, especially considering music was rare outside of the flesh maze in Alma. A scrap of paper held to the inside of the lid. It was worn and the letters were illegible, yet he could make out two names: Gascoigne and Viola.

“So…you got a family back home or something?” Dedan asked. Gascoigne closed the box and sighed.

“A wife and two darling girls. There’s also my old friends, Eileen the Crow and Henryk. I can only imagine they’re all worried sick about me.” He said. Dedan nodded and averted his gaze. Damn it, now he’d have that on his conscience if he killed him! Unfortunately, there was no conceivable way to return him to wherever he came from. Not helping was how rare humans were, and the Elsens sure as hell wouldn’t know anything.

“Well, we sure as hell won’t get anywhere by standing around like idiots. We can discuss things in Alma where there’s actual privacy and the Elsens aren’t nosy little shits.” Dedan muttered. Gascoigne nodded and followed him out of the barn, wincing at the torn, headless body lying on the floor. Best not to think of the poor Elsen now…

The trip to Alma was a silent one. On the tram Gascoigne used one of his emergency blood vials to close up his wounds while Dedan tapped his claws against his teeth and swore under his breath. The hunter didn’t dare make sudden movements or speak out of fear of inciting his wrath. Yet in the meat plant itself he couldn’t help grabbing a chunk of meat from the fountains or humming along to the tune in the flesh maze.

“So do you at least remember what happened before you passed out? Anything to explain how you ended up here?” Dedan asked once they were safely within his office. Gascoigne was busily chomping on another scrap of meat, yet managed not to make a mess of himself. By that point there were few signs of his previous behavior besides the bloodstains on his garb and his fangs.

“Yes, actually. Damien, a new hunter, told me about a monster in the Cathedral Ward. I decided to take a look, and the damned thing snatched me up and squeezed the consciousness out of me. I don’t know how it sent me here considering it sent him to the Hunter’s Nightmare.” Gascoigne said. As he licked the meat remnants from his gloved fingers, he mused over other details. Damien mentioned holding the eye of a blood drunk hunter and an odd latticed stone, and being sent to different areas of the nightmare. Surely this Zone couldn’t be apart of it…right?

“As far as I know, the only way you can really travel between zones is with a zodiac card. If you don’t have one of those, you’re stuck here.” Dedan said. Gascoigne instantly perked up and dug a card out of his pocket. Dedan rose an eyebrow and inspected the card. It was identical to his, other than the Gemini symbol being carved into it. “Yeah, like that. Where the hell did you find it?” he asked.

“On a dead body…?” Gascoigne said, giving a grin that showed off his teeth. Dedan rubbed his temples and grabbed the hunter by the wrist. Leading him back down the hallway and out into the rain, he stopped before a floating red box.

“You see this? If you press the white button on this box, you’ll be sent to the Nothingness. There you can wander until you find your way home,” He said. “And no matter what happens, don’t you dare come back. You’re lucky I didn’t tear out your guts the second you regained your sanity.”

Father Gascoigne nodded. He didn’t dare underestimate Dedan now, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust him. The guardian was still threatening his life, so it wouldn’t surprise him if he was leading him into a void where he’d be doomed to wander for the rest of his life. Still, his only other option was to remain in Zone 1 with cowardly Elsens and a perpetually enraged monster for company. As he reached for the box, Dedan swiftly pushed his hand away.

“Wait, there’s something I forgot to ask. This beast plague…there’s no way I could be infected, right?” he muttered. Eyeing the guardian’s rather long teeth, still soaked in blood, Gascoigne could only shrug.

“Considering it’s only a small amount, you should be fine. If you experience anything such as hair growth, fang growth, thirst for blood, or loss of sanity, I’m afraid there isn’t much you can do. Farewell, Dedan.” Gascoigne said. He pressed the button before Dedan could utter another word, instantly teleporting away.

The Nothingness was exactly what it sounded like. A vast realm of darkness, with no sound other than distant whispers from an unknown source. Below him were green floral patterns, spots of red likely representing different zones. Gazing out at the endless black landscape, Gascoigne began walking forward. It was a start at least.

Father Gascoigne had been walking for some time now. Nothing ever changed, it seemed. Yet as he considered picking another direction, something tugged the edge of his coat. Glancing down at the culprit, he couldn’t help but tilt his head. It was a frail little thing, deathly pale with empty eyes. A Messenger. Gascoigne hadn’t seen any in quite some time. Five more sprouted from the ground and grasped his legs.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” he shouted. He was tripped over by the Messengers, falling harshly onto his back. More of the creatures emerged and held him down, their combined strength keeping him pinned. Father Gascoigne whimpered as they climbed onto his chest and towards his chin. As one Messenger caressed his face, his vision darkened before he was dragged into the void.

Gascoigne’s vision was blurred as he awoke. Two figures stood above him, but he hadn’t the faintest idea who they could be. I must have died, this is the Hunter’s Nightmare, he thought to himself. The one on the right was shouting incoherently, yet their words gradually became clear.

“Gascoigne, can you hear me? Please say something, anything!” Henryk’s voice called. The hunter’s vision cleared, and within moments he found Henryk and Eileen leaning over him.

“Thank god you’re alright, Father. We all assumed the worst when you vanished. Damien’s been searching all over the Hunter’s Nightmare for you!” Eileen said. Gascoigne could only nod his head, his entire body aching once again. He could only imagine the hunter had sent the Messengers across the worlds in search of him. “Speaking of which, what happened out there? You look pretty torn up.” She asked.

“I…ended up in a strange world, dare I say an artificial one. During that time I encountered a rather foul-tempered individual. I swear he was spouting cusses every other sentence…” Gascoigne murmured. He looked himself over, finding marks where Dedan had clawed and bit him. Then there were tears in his garb that Viola would need to mend.

“Well, just take it easy for now. I’ll go find Damien and let him know you’re alive and well.” She said. Henryk nodded as she left and sat down on the side of the bed.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Don’t go chasing monsters in the Cathedral Ward!” Henryk said with a chuckle. All Gascoigne could do was lie back and grin.


End file.
